


Without A Trace

by Serket88



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Best Friends, F/F, Femslash, Slow Burn, we'll see how this goes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-11
Updated: 2015-12-11
Packaged: 2018-05-01 03:47:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5191013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serket88/pseuds/Serket88
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a story about two girls named Amélie and Lena.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

I don't know if I'm the only one bothered by you, but I'm pretty damn sure I'm the only one trying to do something about you. It's not like I've made much progress, but dammit, I'm the only one who's ever gotten close to you.

Maybe it's because I'm that good, or maybe it's because you let me.

But back to the issue: it's like ever since Gerard died everyone on Overwatch has tried to push you out of their mind. You're Widowmaker now. I don't know if Talon gave you that name or if we did, but it's all everyone calls you anymore. I think I'm the only person who remembers you as Amélie.

An invitation of bullets brings my mind out of the past as you try to pin me down behind cover. Sorry love, but that won't work. I blink forward and suddenly I'm standing behind you, my pistols trained at you. Could have killed you there, or at least wounded you, but that wasn't in the mission. I'm here to distract.

Not that I would have killed you even if I was sent to take you out.

Because deep down inside me I believe you can be saved; I believe you're still Amélie. Maybe I'm stuck in the past, but in my head I can still see you as you once were. The ghost of your smile haunts me and I'm not sure what it means, only that I can't stand what Talon did to you. I can't stand the fact that they took my best friend and made her into a monster.

The first time we met was at one of the few social gatherings Overwatch had, back in the old days. I was a rookie, just getting used to my harness, dealing with the idea of not being stuck in time. It was the first time Gerard brought you to us. 

Of course, he talked about you incessantly. I don't blame him. From the first time we met we had an instant connection, as if something clicked. We were on the same wavelength and we had to stop ourselves from completing each other's thoughts.

I'd never felt anything like it before and haven't felt anything like it since.

But now you're my enemy and I still don't know how to handle that. So we dance. We trade bullets back and forth across the world, in battlefields from Cairo to China. I'd like to believe that there's something in you that's keeping me safe, but when I look into your golden eyes I see nothing but emptiness each time and it's just about enough to send me to tears.

And the dance continues. A game of cat and mouse with me staying just out of your reach each time. And I know that if you had your soul you could probably take me out, but Talon robbed you of that. Eliminated the variable from the equation. They don't seem to get that what makes us better than machines is the variables -- the unpredictability of humanity and our drive to make things better.

I'm not giving up on you Amélie. I swear that I will save you.


	2. Unbalanced

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lena decides to take the initiative and start unbalancing the delicate dance the two of them have been performing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From Lena's perspective...

Each time I get closer to you my heart races faster. Something that wasn't there before is lit inside me and the last time I felt this giddy was the first time I got into a cockpit. Something about you makes me want to take more risks, and I find myself jumping off of buildings in unnecessary stunts, knowing you're watching me through your scope and hoping you're impressed.

The fact that you're so emotionless now only drives me further, daring me to take more risks and I find myself looking forward to the next mission, or taking extra assignments just to meet you on the battlefield even more. As I blink through the streets of Cairo, I admit to myself, "It doesn't hurt that you're really good looking in that body suit they've got you in."

I appear behind you like a leaf on the breeze and I find myself flirting with you. "You know, you'd expect that blue skin to be a turnoff, but somehow, you make it *work*." I've got a shit-eating grin as you spin around with a kick designed to send me flying, but I'm not where you expect, standing on the neighboring rooftop with a hearty laugh.

You send a salvo of bullets my way and suddenly I'm back where I was 30 seconds ago asking you if you've got dinner plans. Technically, I've been assigned to find out what you're up to, and asking about dinner falls in that category. Technically.

I don't get a response out of you but I swear I can see a flicker of unbridled annoyance cross your face and it sends my heart flying. Right off the bat, I can tell that even if you can't remember me, you're going to be oh so fun to mess with.

~~~

This is how we pass the months. Talon and the remains of Overwatch are locked neck-and-neck in a battle that most of the world feels is obsolete. I'm sure the governments don't think that, but most of them are too scared to send their officers in to break up the fights. We're above them now, fighting on a scale that would get most people killed. I think most people are just glad that we balance each other out.

So what happens when we unbalance the scales?

~~~

You've gotten used to the routine. I like to think that you enjoy the fact that I keep showing up on your assignments, somewhere underneath you're icy shell. I like to think that you miss me with your shots on purpose, and that somewhere inside you like my company.

Perhaps you've grown relaxed around me when you started realizing that I'm not going to kill you, or maybe your programming has simply decided that I'm not a threat. So today I'm going to see if I can't shake up that programming and throw myself into a category it doesn't know how to deal with. Something along the lines of "lover."

You're moving rapidly through the city with your grappling hook, twisting through the air like some kind of spider. My blink drive moves faster than you do, but it doesn't have as much sustainability, so I'm following you on foot, running along the rooftops and waiting for the right moment to strike. As if sensing my thoughts, you swing hard around a corner and if I've got this right in my head, you're just within range of a well-placed blink.

I crash into you in mid-air, hanging onto you and giving you a sudden burst of momentum. The amount of surprise on your face is probably the most emotion I've seen on you yet, but it's nowhere near what it will be in a second. As you make a course correction with your grappling hook, concentrating on the vectors of our motion with your gorgeous golden eyes, I plant a kiss squarely on your lips.

You nearly drop us.

This does not compute at all, and I move back in time, winking into the past leaving the faintest traces of laughter as I go. Your expression is worth every bruise, cut, and bullet I've taken from you. What excites me most is the fact that you didn't seem to object to the kiss, merely confused and conflicted by it. I can tell that things are about to get really interesting for you and me.


	3. Vulnerability

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amélie has a tendency to escalate matters, and romance is no exception...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the perspective of Amélie...

"One shot, one kill." The words reverberate inside my head, bouncing around like the fragment of a song that stays with you. The song Talon has taught me is an elegant one: simple and precise, without any room for error. I am their songbird and life is simple.

I try not to think about much besides the mission. Whenever I do, everything starts to hurt more than it should. It would be a trivial task if not for Tracer. The ever-present thorn in my side. I don't know why she always seems to know where I am, and I still haven't figured out how to deal with her.

She moves so fast it's like trying to catch a leaf on the wind. The only thing that seems to slow her down is a wide spray of bullets. It's not a clean maneuver, and it goes against the "one shot, one kill" mantra that I cannot get rid of. She's an anomaly that I am not equipped to deal with, a flaw in my code. A vulnerability.

And then she kissed me.

That's where everything went wrong. Why would she do that? Out of everything in the world, this woman who is my vulnerability bestows upon me an action of affection that generally indicates romantic pretensions and I have absolutely no solution to it. It makes no sense and as we're swinging through the air I almost drop both of it because I'm terrified and excited and so many other emotions that I haven't felt in ages.

The emotions that hit me aren't easy ones, and on some intellectual level I realize that even normal individuals struggle with feelings like this, but it is so much worse for me. There's nothing in my programming that suggests how to deal with this. I'm not supposed to have emotions. I'm a songbird, and this harmony inside me does not mesh with the notes that I was taught to sing and I feel like my world is falling apart.

My world is caving in around me, but here is the light at the end of the tunnel: Tracer has given me emotions, at least some of them. It's something that Talon can't control, hasn't planned for and as much as that terrifies me it excites me as well. It's something new, something old, it's something that wasn't expected and perhaps the world is caving in around me, but I can feel a new one around the corner.

And suddenly as I swing through the air everything feels new and there's a joy in my heart that shouldn't be there. I can feel it fading away with every slowed heartbeat, but it was there and now I have an insatiable need for more of it. I want to feel more.

~~~

I can see her with my scope, and then with my recon visor, tracking her movement across the city-scape. She's coming to stop me again, but this time is going to be different. She's my vulnerability, yes, but that does not mean that I am helpless against her. Maybe the kiss has given me new knowledge, or simply freed up my mind to think a little more, but I believe that my plan will work, if only because now I know that Tracer is not going to kill me.

She blinks through the air, practically flying as I study her from my sniper's perch. One feeling in particular rises out of the void, a bittersweet feeling that tugs at my heartstrings and the more I look at Tracer the worse, or better (I'm not sure), it gets. It takes me a minute, but I identify what's going on: This is the first time I've seen beauty in...forever. This is the first time I've looked at someone and thought of them as more than a target or an asset. The first time I've looked at a face and not been calculating a bullet trajectory into it.

And I realize: she's pretty.

Or at least, that's how I interpret what's going on underneath my skin. Tracer has the cutest grin as she flies through the air, like there's nothing better in the entire world, and her eyes are shimmering with passion and exhilaration. And then suddenly she looks at me and I gasp a little because the emotions simmering inside have spiked, but I turn around anyway, ready to enact my plan.

The plan revolves around me being able to predict Tracer. Now that I'm not studying her as someone trying to take me out, the recordings of our fights in the past have made much more sense, and I'm counting on being able to take her out in hand-to-hand combat.

I spin around as Tracer materializes, a kick already aimed at her. She doesn't have time to duck, but she falls with the blow, tucking into a roll and then springing back at me without a moment's hesitation. I'm ready for her and we trade blows, with her occasionally blinking behind me. I've learned to handle her tricks and she recognizes it.

"Wow luv, it looks like that kiss bumped your fighting up a notch or two. Maybe if I give you a few more you'll actually beat me one of these days." Her eyebrow is raised in cocky defiance, and I don't give her the satisfaction of a reply.

And then she's right where I need her to be, and I'm right where she needs me to be, and she orchestrates a takedown. She gives me the opening and I bring her to the ground. I'm on top of her, pinning her against the concrete rooftop.

She giggles, but I ignore it for now because I need answers. "Why did you kiss me? What are you up to?"

"Come closer," she whispers and I move my head near to hers, even though it's a tactically vulnerable move. "It's because I like you." She smiles and starts chuckling underneath me and suddenly I need to do something, anything to make her stop so I do what comes natural and start kissing her.

It's not very natural at first, but slowly she begins to teach me. She's gentle, but very excited. I can feel hints of memories, their shadows reflecting in the back of my mind and teaching me what it's like to experience love. To experience this physical affection.

As we progress I start realizing just how warm she is against my skin, and I feel like clinging to her like she's the last bit of warmth and happiness in the entire universe. For me, maybe she is.


	4. The Calm, The Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brief lull between events...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the perspective of Lena...

She's as cold as ice but it's still the best thing I've ever felt. She's nervous and excited and aggressive and it's everything I never expected it to be and more. I can feel myself getting a all hot and bothered and I think this turns her on more because she's suddenly hugging me and holding me close. And I know that on some level, she needs me.

So I whisper into her ear, "It's okay luv. Cavalry's here."

It just sort of came out naturally. It's just something I say to reassure people, something unique to me. But it was clearly the wrong thing to say as Amélie grows stiff. Maybe it was a reminder that on some level, we're still enemies, or maybe it was simply the fact that I moved too far too fast. But it's as if I hit the self-destruct button on whatever we had going on.

In an instant she has a knife in her hand, but before she can strike at me, I've blinked out of the way. Just close enough to see the tears streaming out of her face and wondering why they're not frozen. She sends a spray of bullets in my direction but they're sloppy and wild and it's not like her. 

She's unravelling, in a total state of disarray. I can feel the chaos coming off of her, and knowing that I caused it does not make me feel good. I don't know whether this is a step in the right direction, or if I've merely taken apart the only thing that was holding her together. But I do know that I won't be able to accomplish anything good by sticking around, so I leave.

~~~

There isn't a lot of Overwatch that's still in one place, but London is fairly central and most of us make it our home. There are a few of us scattered around the city, notably Winston and Mercy. They like to keep an eye on me, make sure that I'm not mucking up the timestream. But I've got a fair amount of privacy. A small flat where no one really bothers me.

It's dark when I get back, and the quiet is entirely unhelpful in helping me get rid of the thoughts bouncing around inside my head. Too many "what-ifs" that I can't stop thinking about. Most of all, I can't get her face, that expression out of my mind; I can't stop feeling guilty for making her cry like that.

I find myself halfway through the process of making tea. That's where my autopilot usually takes me. The tea helps sooth my concerns. Going into this, I knew I'd have to crack through Amélie's icy shell before I could get at her, but maybe I didn't think about how much that would hurt her.

All I can do right now is wait. Give her time to sort herself out, wait for the next time she's out in the field.

~~~

The days turn into weeks. There are a few missions I go on, but there's no sign of Widowmaker anywhere. It's like she dropped off the face of the earth. Talon itself has been unusually quiet. It's eerie.

Not everyone knows what I did, upsetting the balance like that, but I suspect Mercy has some idea. Winston doesn't really see human subtext very well, but he's a smart guy. I don't know about everyone else, but I'm getting a little scared. This feels too much like a calm before a storm.

That's when my comm starts beeping -- a split second before a shockwave rattles my flat's windows. I can hear alarms in the distance as the police marshal to contain the situation, but if Talon's involved, it won't be enough. I suit up and jump out into the night, moving towards the epicenter of danger.

Cold winter air whistles around me as I skip across the rooftops, chilling any part of exposed skin. There's smoke rising in the distance in the direction of the old Overwatch relay station, which explains why I haven't been contacted by Winston or Mercy. Take out our communications and then pick us off one by one.

What bothers me is the fact that Talon has enough resources to attempt this kind of aggressive maneuver. Yes, we engage in skirmishes worldwide, but it's never been an allout war between us. Mostly, we balance each other out and keep each other in check. There must be something desperate at stake if they're willing to attempt this.

As I think this, a spray of gunfire pierces the moonlit night and I twist to avoid it. Heart racing, I blink off the roof and circle around. I can hear the noises of armed forces -- heavy bootsteps, occasional communication bursts, and sometimes the sound of bullets flying behind me.

I've been forced to abandon my speed in favor of stealth, and I'm becoming increasingly worried. I'm not exactly a master tactician, but I figure four left turns means I'm moving in circles, which generally means I'm going to be surrounded. 

As soon as I think this, I get a feeling in my gut that it's true and the night becomes even more grim. As I continue moving to evade Talon, I whisper to myself, "But who rescues the cavalry?"

The trap springs shut as I turn a corner and run into a fully functional Bastion robot ready to blow my head off. I jump back in time and blink in a different direction, only to find myself surrounded by three Talon operatives also ready to fire. No matter what direction I blink, there are always too many of them, and it's a matter of time before my harness runs out of its charge.

It's over. The wolves have caught me and there's no getting out of this trap. I sink to the ground, pistols running hot and ready to take a few of the bastards out when I go, but it doesn't even come to that. Two shots are fired from the darkness and my pistols are blown away. Widowmaker. The name reverberates inside my head and try to smile even as I feel a tear running down my face.

I look into the distance, gazing at the high points, trying to find her silhouette in the night. She's too good for that. Even if she was visible, she's moved by now, never staying in one place. Still, I know it was her. In that moment I surrender, because I know that I absolutely need to get through to her.

One way or another, I need to get through to Widowmaker. She's the key to the balance, and whoever she sides with is going to end up the victor. Before I can do anything, a needle punctures my arm and I can feel a tranquillizer seeping into my veins. I'm out cold within seconds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay. This chapter was more difficult to write, due to its transitory nature.


	5. Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the perspective of Lena...

There are sparks, occasionally. Flashes of memory that hurt, throbbing in my head and leaving as quickly as they come. There are new things, foreign things injected too. They're emotions and they race through my heart. Excitement, joy, fear, loss, anger, and everything in-between. I don't understand it, but it doesn't matter because everything is okay here.

I feel a noise that sounds like screaming but softly, gently, and not at all violent. It's the sound of someone looking into me, examining each part of me, laying myself out. I can hear my body talking. I don't understand how I talk while I'm unconscious, but it happens nonetheless.

I find myself talking about myself.

I'm telling them everything and I can't stop and it feels so good to let it all out. It feels like they're listening, like they're really interested. They want to know everything. It's like they really care about who I am. Isn't that great? To have found someone who wants to know absolutely everything about you and what you think of it?

And then slowly, they start telling me things about myself. Almost as if someone has decided to come along and fill in some puzzle pieces -- holes that I didn't even know were there. It's as if they're connecting the dots between the chaos in my life and explaining to me how everything makes sense.

They start with Winston.

The big guy. The scientist. My friend. Only, he's not really my friend. He's actually the one who engineered the first slipstream jet, and it wasn't designed to be a teleportating jet. It was meant to take me out of time on purpose. It was an experiment in time travel. 

My harness is actually phase two of his little project. Each mission a field test of its capabilities with tiny unnoticeable calibrations. I'm a lab rat.

They begin to unload how Overwatch isn't what it seems. There's a reason Overwatch was disbanded -- you don't think the UN made a mistake, did you? Of course not. The corruption was real, and it remains in the broken husks of individuals that still affiliate themselves with Overwatch.

And then my mind goes deeper, sliding into another hazier level of consciousness where everything is a mix of emotions and associations. They're giving me a chance to think about it, to mull everything over. Almost immediately, my gut reaction says that they're telling the truth.

And I realize it's true. It's been a bunch of lies constructed to hold me back. I was a naive *child* to them. And those that were not actively manipulating me into being their perfect agent were too deluded in their own messed-up fantasies to realize what was going on. I'm suddenly filled with rage and disgust at what I've been through.

And Talon.

Oh Talon. Terrorists? That's propaganda, more lies crafted to manipulate. Talon is what they say they are: an organization fighting to restore peace and balance to the world, to remove corruption from our governments and institute a new, more perfect world order. Everything they do is for the greater good.

Including Amélie. They were able to get through to her first and reveal the truth about Overwatch, the truth about her husband and what he was doing. And she begged them to give her the tools to put a stop to it, pleaded with them to transform her into an agent of change that would rid the world of dross.

But she's lost sight of the good things in life. She's become too focused on the evil in this world, and she needs someone to balance her out. I can be that person. I can give her hope. Talon has saved me so that I can save her.

~~~

I regain consciousness slowly, hints of colors and senses coming back to me. And then all of a sudden I inhale, gasping for air and my eyes are searching for something, anything familiar. They lock onto Amélie, who is standing next to my bed. I lurch and reach for her and she embraces me before I can fall, but still holds me at arms length.

"Are you okay?" she asks me. And for the first time, I think I really am. I nod as I grasp her arms, ice cold to the touch. "Everything finally feels right."

I see the barest hint of a smile on her face, and she lets me hug her. I giggle a little bit. We're finally together and not trying to kill one another.

~~~

We -- I -- spend a week in recovery. They want to make sure that my condition is stable, as I'm assured by Dr. Bashir. Despite the risks, I'm itching to get back into the fight. In general I find it hard to sit still, but on top of that, having learned just how bad Overwatch is, I can't wait to bring the fight to them. 

While I can't go into the field, I still help out however I can, mostly by talking to their intelligence division, giving them everything I know off the top of my head. And best of all, I get to spend time with Amélie.

We have long walks in the garden. The place we're staying at is known as The Impasse, which is a large castle set in the alps. Our favorite place is a garden balcony overlooking the valley. You can see for miles. 

The conversations are awkward at first.

"So..." I begin. We're sitting on a bench together. It's cold but I've long since learned to dress warmly. 

Amélie looks as if she's on the verge of trying to say something, but hasn't quite put the words together. I know the feeling. She doesn't really have casual attire, but the cold doesn't bother her despite the fact that her battle mesh barely covered her. Eventually she musters the words, "Sorry for...trying to kill you. Multiple times."

I laugh and my smile seems to relax her a little. "It's fine. I'm just glad that we're both here right now, together."

A little bit of the unease comes back into her as she glances down. We're holding hands.

She breaks the silence again. "It might be obvious right now, but I like you. Romantically, I mean. I think."

"Well that's good because I really like you," I tell her as my heart rises.

"It's just. I haven't done this...I hadn't even considered, ever since Gerard." There it was. Gerard was her vulnerability. Her weak spot. The man unravelled her, and turned her into the ice queen she is. My heart is filled with hatred as I think of him and how he betrayed my friendship.

"Shhh" I say, putting my finger on her lips. We lock eyes. "This isn't like that. We're something new, something different, something that is going to last. This world can go to hell for all I care as long as we're together. There aren't many people you can trust these days, you know? We have to stick together."

I don't wait for her response as I begin kissing her tentatively. To my surprise, she kisses back. After a few moments however, she pulls away. "I do trust you," she says. "And I think I'm going to enjoy us very much. But perhaps we should get re-acquainted with one another somewhere more...private." She stands and begins to walk in the direction of our rooms, swaying those luscious hips back and forth as she walks.

Bloody hell that woman can walk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again apologies for the delay. It's been finals week for like 3 weeks.


End file.
